The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1887-07-27
Seletteo Storm.
Who is My Neighbor /.

hammock while l was idly swinging
under the big maple.
"Aunty Lee sent Them" said the
wee child, "and she hopes the noun
tain air will soon make you well; and
she's your neighbor down under the
hill"
"Who is this neighborly Auntie
Lee?" asked the woman with whom
l boarded when next she came within
hearing of my voice.
"Oh, then, she's sent we some po-
sies," remarked talkative Mrs. Evans,
coming briskly from the garden and
sitting down on the steps of the little
porch, so that she might entertain me
while she was Smelling peas, thus
" KILN tew birds with one stun," as
she said. 81 was wondering to my
self not tew minutes ago how long
'twould be afore she'd find out about
We an send we suthin', / can't see, for
my part, how she can afford to do as
she does"
"Why, what does she do?" L asked.
ooh, she says she aims to be neigh
borly, and if anybody happens to be
sick anywheres around she sends 'em
little things to eat, and flowers to cheer
'em up, as she says; and she always
has her knittin'-work in her pocket,
and her 'odd job o. knittin', as she
calls it, grows bout like magic into
gloves and mittins and wristlets and
stockings that she gives away"
"To her friends-people fully able to
buy them, 1 suppose?"
ooh, dear, no. To poor children,
and to old men and women that l
suppose are real needy an that set
great store by her warm and handsome
presents, for her yarns are as bright as
her flowers: an I've told my man a
good many times that the color went
half towards making her little gifts so
welcome. An then she has so much
company"
erich people from the city, whose
visits she returns?"
"Oh, land sakes, no; poor folks, who
are tickled to death to get an invitation
to her pleasant little home. Yes, her
home is an amazin' pleasant one,
though her man is only poor mechanic
dew little good every day as she goes
along than to be waitin' to dew some
great thing when she gets able, and
then p'raps lose her opportunity and
never do nothin'. told her one day last
year, says l, Miss Lee,' says I, 1
should rather put by little suthin' in
the bank for rainy day than to be
givin' away all the time And said
she, Mrs. Evings,' said she, that's
your way; don't find no fault with it,
but all the little things that / give away
would never get into the bank, an so,
you see, they'd be lost, an 1 should
pass away without ever dom anything
for my Master. An don't want to 90
to bed night without thinking that
have that day tried to tighten some fell
low-mortal's burden; brought a smile
to some face, streak o. sunshine to
some heart, if it's only giving bunch
o. posies in the right speerit.
"And these flowers cost her great
deal, first and last, ! suppose?" said l,
Caressing my pansies.
"Oh, 'twould cost me good deal to
run such hower-garden as she does;
but Miss Lee says she's not strong, so
she gets fresh air, sunbaths and eXer-
else in her garden and spends time
workin' in there instead of visitin'.
She returns all her calls by sending her
compliments with bunch % posies."
She hires some one to carry them
about, l presume?'
"Massy, no. There isn't a child in
the village but would run its legs off
for Aunty Lee" and having finished
Smelling her mess of peas, my laxative
little hostess trotted about her work,
saying, as she disappeared through
the doorway: "It's well enough to be
neighborly, of course, but Miss Lee
may see the time when she'd a wished
she had little of suthin' eout at in
terest."
The Vermont mountain air agreed
with me, my health gradually improv-
ing. / stayed on week after week
spending great part of my time,
when the weather did not positively
forbid, in my hammock under the
naples. AS yet l had not seen my
neighbor, Aunty Lee, but grew to love
her on account of her pretty nosegays
that daily found their way from her
hand to mine by one and another child
messenger.
One night, late in August, there was
heavy thunder-shower The sudden
downfall of rain swelled the little river
that skirted our village to a veritable
mountain torrent. A mill-dam some
miles up the stream had broken away
and the angry flood came rushing down,
sweeping all before it.
"Auntie Lees husbands shop has
gone" shouted my hostess, Mrs
Evans, as she knocked at my door early
in the morning, after the storm; 4" an
that's not the worst ont, for her gar
den is all washed out and undermined,
so that it'll take a purity pile of money
tew fix it up again, if ever it's fixed. /
wonder now if Miss Lee don't wish she
hadn't been quite so neighborly, an so
had little suthin' eout at interest %
And it really seemed to me as if the
brisk little woman chuckled to herself
as she battered down the stairs.
In less than half an hour she came
back to my room with as doleful a look
ing visage as | ever saw.
Whatever is agoin' to become o.
me and my old MANI" cried she; "and
we a getting to be old folks too. Our
savin's were all in the stock comply
up to Minotsville, because they paid
more interest than the bank a little
while ago, and now their old mill has
gone clean off and they'll go to gin
eral smash, and we along with 'em."
And this time she went slowly groan-
ing down the stairs. / could not help
,,it,,ino, tho mnn,on from, tho hOttom or